Dean's words were an arrow to Sam's heart and a light unto his path in the next few days. They didn't ever speak about it, even though Dean knew Sam had heard them.
One night, the weight of their situation settled on them. Sam's head injury was bad enough he should have seen a doctor, but he could not. So, they held up in a house.
"Sam..."Dean called for the fifth time.
Sam stirred. He felt his soul warm when he saw the speaker leaning over the table where he read the book of lore, or tried. Sam was still having vertigo. Vertigo had been accompanied by visions, but these were happening in disjointed patterns around his sleep and he forgot them soon after.
"Sammy...We need to get you something for the pain. You can't even sit up good, man..."Dean held Sam up by the shoulders.
"I'm okay..."Sam lied.
"No, you're not. You're not even good to sit in the car anymore. We're gonna have to leave this place soon..."Dean looked around at the devastated shanty they were in.
"Well, then you...you will have to risk going and getting the medicine and leaving me here for a while."Sam frowned.
Dean didn't like that idea at all. He was about to protest. Sam laid a hand on his mouth.
"Dean, you said it yourself. I didn't want to admit it, but I can barely stand up..." Sam frowned. Dean nodded. He felt desperation snatch his breath. If he didn't get Sam out of here, though, they'd be found, and all bets of saving him were off. He had to chance it.
"I'll be back in 20 minutes."
It turned out that 20 minutes was long enough for the world to end.
Dean flew to a Super Dollar Mart just a few miles from there and raced back. When he got there, something in his soul told him this was a fatal mistake.
"You're not human..."A voice answered the fear in his heart. It was a man's voice, rough, redneck accent. Another man answered.
"We don't know what you are but we will find out..."
"DON'T MOVE!" Dean burst through the door, ripping it out of the wall so that it fell with a creak of its hinges.
Sam had been dragged to one of the abandoned cabin's beds and lashed to the bed posts.
"Dean..."One of the hunters smiled. Hunters! Dean was shaking with anger, but his gun hand was steady.
"Let him go, Walt! Come on...You know, Sam...you know him. You were kids together." Dean was biting back the urge to let emotion show through. Sam was panting, as a rag soaked in gasoline was stuffed in his face.
"No, we were kids with Sam. This...This is God's mistake... You just can't see it yet, Dean. You're too close to it. Gordon said we had to show you before you'd understand." Walt nodded to his friend. He lifted a gasoline can. Dean was pulling the trigger when rough arms locked around him and knocked his gun out of his hand. Fingers sank against his lips so hard he felt his teeth bend and shift in his jaw.
"There's no reason to kill you, Dean. You're not part of this..."Gordon purred.
"But soon, you'll see. Sam is not human. You'll stop protecting him when you see the truth..." Gordon was eager.
Walt's friend paused, unsure.
"I don't know, man. Monster or not, this seems kinda cruel." The young hunter shrugged.
"Dammit, Jake, do it!" Walt barked.
Dean studied Jake for a second. He was probably about Sam's age. He was wearing an army coat with the name Talley written on its pocket, but the rest of his clothes were civilian. Dean tried to yell, to call out to this Jake that had paused to show Sam mercy, but Gordon's fingers clenched harder still. Dean felt his molars shifting in place now.
"Do it, Walt...Jake doesn't have the stones." Gordon nodded.
Dean felt a stone sink in his soul, but his heart burst like a bird from its cage. Walt doused Sam in gas and dropped a book of matches on him. The bed caught blazes. Sam screamed as he caught fire, but then his eyes rolled in his head. For a moment, the flames burned brighter, shooting up the wall, knocking Jake down.
Then, they receded into Sam's veins. Sam's veins turned black, charred and his bones hissed and cracked with the weight of absorbing fire. Then, he gasped, and coughed. He spit out the ashes of the gas rag. His body was in one whole, unburned piece. He sat up straighter. The wound in his head was gone.
"Self-healing, impervious to flames...Your brother isn't human." Gordon chuckled as he let Dean go and threw him to the floor. Dean looked up into Sam's face. Sam's bottom lip quivered a bit, struggling with tears.
"Gordon, that's enough. We don't want to torture him. We want to end this swift and painless..."John's voice was soft serve as he entered the room, apparently having chased Gordon to the scene. His father's voice was cool to Dean's ears until he remebered the reality of this situation and thrashed around.
"Don't...Dad, don't..." Dean wasn't one to beg, but he was begging now.
Dean couldn't get up. The heat from the fire had charred him and knocked all the wind from his body. Dad was aiming an antique gun straight between Sam's eyes.
"Don't watch this, son..."John begged, in tears.
"DAMN YOU!" Dean shouted.
"Don't look, Dean...It'll be over just like that." Sam begged, hoarse from the smoke.
John pulled the trigger. Dean's eyes were wide open. He saw it all. What he saw didn't make a bit of sense.
Because the bullet stopped mid-air, blazing like a meteor hurling to the earth. Dean stood up slowly. The bullet was frozen mid-air. The others were looking on in horror, wondering how it had stopped. John gave a chirp, and Dean turned from him and then sharply back in Sam's direction.
"God!" Gordon gasped and fell to the floor, crawling frantically backward on hands and knees and then laying in a sobbing mess.
Sam stood in the center of the bed. His hair was caught in an other worldly breeze, even though no wind was blowing. What was more, his eyes were on fire, shooting flames and sparks down his cheeks. They burned in his face like Moses' bush, never burning him up, but blazing like welder's torches. Dean was transfixed by them.
"What are you?!" John gasped.
The boy's head tilted slightly.
"Sammy?" Dean asked. Sam turned to face Dean.
"I saw it all before it happened. The end of the world. Lucifer's Cage. I was born to raise the devil, but I was also born to end him. If I use my powers, then my powers will overwhelm me. But if I draw all their power into me and then destroy myself, I can end this before it starts..." Sam smiled, as if he'd seen a beautiful vision.
"Sam..."Dean gasped.
Sam put out his hands and levitated himself off the bed. He pushed himself toward the ceiling but never touched it.
"That's my brother there, you see? You see everything, don't you? I can do this, I can end me for him if that's what this takes. Show me how...show me how, spirit, I'm ready now..." Sam hovered in the air, talking now to someone else.
"Stop. Don't give in to it...You can fight this..."Dean begged. By now, the others had formed a ring around the wall. They would not dare move for fear of interrupting whatever they were witnessing and drawing the ire of the boy transformed in the center of the room.
"It's not about fighting something, Dean...There's nothing to fight. I told you, didn't I? I am human. I'm only acting as the channel of Yellow Eyes' evil intent. It's like my psyche is a radio, channeling psychic ability from other unnatural forces. If I cave to those forces, I will become a monster. If I hold on to who I am, I can beat the Devil..." Sam smiled.
"And I know who I am...I've known who I am my whole life..."Sam smiled at Dean, as if his blazing eyes saw all that they adored. He reached out his hand.
Dean, transfixed, reached up his hand. Their fingers touched like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
"Who are you, Sam?" Dean's voice was barely above a whisper. He knew anyway, but it was up to Sam to say.
"I am your little brother...In the end, that's who I'll be...I'm going to save you, Dean...In return, you have saved me from myself." Sam laughed.
Then, his body gave up. The fire shot from his eyes, and through the ceiling. He gave a terrible, painful cry like when one relinquishes a demon to Hell. His body gave one rough paper-folding spasm and fell with a hard thud against the bed, bowing what remained of its wasted frame, scattering him in ashes. The bullet from the magic gun hit the wall and its enchantment fizzled out.
"Sammy!" Dean swung around the bedside to see if his brother was okay.
Sam lay there blinking, coughing, groaning. Blood ran profusely from his nostrils for a moment, before it stopped in one puddle on his chin.
Then, he sat up in Dean's arms.
"Dean...I think I understand what these powers actually are now." He smiled, puffing out a soft laugh.
Dean looked back with menace at their guests. He pulled a knife from his belt, curved it in a slashing pose. Then, he draped Sam over his shoulders, running his hand over his hair and pushing it off his sweaty face.
"If one of you even breathes, I'll split you throat to toe. You get me?!" Dean locked eyes with Gordon, feeling his nostrils flare.
That was when he realized that the others in the room were blinking, and their eyes were watering. For some reason, Dean seemed immune to Sam's weird psychic power, but they were actually struck blind by the fire that had just shot out of him.
With a huff of agitation, Dean hauled Sam outside, and they sped off into the night.